


And so the Prince Ran off with the Dragon

by FoxVII



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Sabriel, DeanCas Flipfest 2018, Dragon!Cas, Dragon!Gabriel, M/M, Runaway Sam, Sort Of, modern steampunk style tech, not spn-type dragons, prince!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxVII/pseuds/FoxVII
Summary: Castiel hadn't seen a human in well over a thousand years. All he remembered of them was that they were terribly small, exceedingly obstinate, and smelled a bit funny. They were meat, but decidedly not-food, and it didn't quite make sense to his young nose.ORWhen Sam goes missing, all signs point to dragons. Naturally, the only solution is to trap one and demand answers. Nothing goes as planned.





	And so the Prince Ran off with the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Profoundnet's 2018 Flipfest! Much thanks to Amie (riversandroads) for the much needed beta effort. Utterly amazing art by JDragon122, found [here]().

He lived alone, as was expected of his kind, so when he woke to the feeling of runemagic weighing him down and the barrel of a gun pointed at his nose, Castiel was more fascinated than upset.

Dragons weren't particularly social, being inherently territorial and selfish by nature. They kept to their caves, tended to their hoards and left only when hunger forced them to hunt. They were large creatures with larger appetites, and while there weren't enough of them in the world to raze forests and deprive them of all fauna, there were enough of them for the small colony of humans - who had settled by the coast - to be concerned.

Concern, of course, was an understatement.

The first interaction between humans and dragons had been volatile, to say the least. No dragon had expected that humans from the little seaside village would march into their mountains with rocks and flaming torches - not that fire did much against their scales and their hide. In the end, the act of outward aggression ended up stirring genuine interest in their species.

It was enough to call together a meeting of elders for the first time in five generations in order to discuss what to do with these hairless apes who were more intelligent than their vapid gazes did imply.

Castiel had been a whelp - bouncing along in the cheiftain's treasure hoard and burrowing into a nest of coins, pretending it was his very own cave - when it was finally decided that they would attempt to open a proper channel of communication between humans and dragons.

(And in the time it took to decide, humans had passed from the stone age and were well into the iron age.)

And so, for the first time in a thousand years, dragons flew from their mountains and made their way to the (much larger) human settlement.

In hindsight, they should have expected that humans would react poorly upon seeing a hoard descend on the outskirts of their town. The largest dragons were easily the size of cottages, with teeth and claws designed for rending flesh, and the livingfire that forever burned in their bellies.

Needless to say, it was chaos. But after many years (eons), a deal was struck.

(Humans were well into the Early Modern age, now.)

They decided that dragons would claim the territory to the north of the mountains, and humans would continue to settle the south. It was an easy enough deal to make. The lands to the north were rich with gold and jewels, mined by dragons to be added to their hoards. It also contained many lush forests, heavy with beasts for their hunts.

And perhaps dragonkind had neglected to mention that in their negotiations. But in their defense, humans were so intent on staying put - and not being eaten - they hadn't inquired as to what lay in the north.

All this to say that Castiel hadn't seen a human in well over a thousand years. All he remembered of them was that they were terribly small, exceedingly obstinate, and smelled a bit funny. They were meat, but decidedly not-food, and it didn't quite make sense to his young nose.

The same not-food smell filled his nose now when he inhaled, so at least he knew what he was looking at.

"Listen up you slimy, overgrown lizard. You're gonna tell me what I need to know or--"

"I assure you, my scales are quite smooth," Castiel replied, sweeping his tail forward, as though to prove his point. His scales were the same deep navy as the night sky, speckled with lighter shades of blue and purple...and almost invisible in the dim light light that the human carried.

"Don't change the subj--"

"There's hardly enough light for conversation. A moment." Castiel sat up, tilted back his head and breathed out. A jet of flame licked past his teeth, arcing overhead, catching on the braziers hung high above on the cavern roof. The space lit up, the light catching off hunks of gold and silver and a veritable rainbow of semi-precious stones.

Of course, nothing in his hoard was  _quite_ as resplendent as himself. He gleamed under firelight, shining and radiant all on his own. The human went suitably quiet at the sight, and Castiel preened with silent vain pride.

He shifted, but wasn't able to go far, not with runemagic tethering him down. "Curious," he murmured, casting his eyes around for the source. With the lights on, Castiel could see the circle that had been drawn around him. It was marked over with runes.

"Yeah, you're locked here good and tight until I get what I need from you."

The human was, probably male, but Castiel couldn't be sure. He was covered over with sheets of metal, formed and beaten down to take the shape of his body. Castiel lowered his snout to nudge him. "Your kind has learned to make scales of your own," he observed. Another bump of his nose and the human was knocked over, onto the ground with a rattle of metal against metal.

"Hey--! What the fuc--"

"My apologies." He hadn't known that they'd be so unbalanced. Likely it came from walking only on two legs. He tried to reach out to help, but the human rolled away from his paw, lifting the gun to fire. The shot glanced off his scales and ricocheted into the wall, leaving a scorch mark against the stone and nary a scratch on Castiel’s scales.

Castiel looked at the spot with interest. “That isn’t fire,” he noted aloud. He looked back over at his little intruder, watching with unveiled interest as it struggled to his feet. "Do you have a name?" he asked, cutting the human off before he could speak.

"Dean,” he answered, brusquely. “And I'm here for my brother, you scaly bastard."

“I'm Castiel,” he politely introduced. He looked around his cavern pointedly. "Your brother isn't here," he explained, just in case Dean's stature was severely impacting his ability to see.

"Maybe not, but I know one of you took him. And if it wasn't you, you're gonna help me find him."

Castiel ignored him, craning his neck instead to take a better look at the runemarks. "This is quality casting," he complimented. They prevented him from moving more than a few feet in either direction. It wouldn't have stopped his flame, as was obvious by the lighting of the braziers, but it did prevent him from giving chase.

Or from getting a better look at what held him.

From what he could see from his vantage point, the marks seemed specifically written to ‘contain a dragon’. It was detailed work, and he wondered how long it had taken the human - Dean - to do this. Or how he could’ve known that he was the only dragon in this cave.

Questions, questions.

He started with the first. "How did you know to use these?" Castiel asked.

"I read.. Now stop dodging the question--"

"Read? You've studied us?" Both flattering and sad. Dragons, as a whole, hadn't given much mind to humans after the treaty had been signed. There had been a few anthropological trips made down to the human villages by those who were interested, but aside from that, they'd been mostly forgotten.

Humans were neither shiny, nor food, and therefore of little interest.

Castiel craned his neck further but couldn't properly see the runemark that tied him down, sketched into the ground almost directly behind him, near his tail. "A moment," he said, dismissing Dean again, much to his audible consternation.

And Castiel shrunk.

Scales vanished, bones shifted, shortening, skin becoming paler, more delicate and easily breakable as he became - mostly - human.

With the transformation complete, the pressure of the runemarks vanished and Castiel was free to move. The stone felt cold against his bare feet and air chilled his skin as he moved. Everything about him felt weaker, and everything else looked larger. He felt cold everywhere, really, save for the livingfire that burned at his core, and the swatches of skin hidden by the fall of his robe. He felt a flash of admiration for humanity. They'd survived a fair bit of time with so little to their advantage.

Castiel crouched by the rune in question  "Ah, I see now. Very good. You'd have been able to make a superior seal had you used--Ah, but I shouldn't tell you that." It wouldn’t do to reveal all their secrets, and as interesting as this morning was, Castiel wouldn’t appreciate being trapped a second time.

Dean gaped at him. "You're--? You just--? You just turned human?"

Castiel looked at him. "Yes," he answered, bluntly. Hadn’t he  _just_ seen it? "Are you hard of sight? I know that my own eyes feel weaker when I'm in this form." It, like the others, was an honest question.

"Are you… special? Can all of you do this? Oh my god, how many of you scaly lizard bastards are walking around in the city?"

Castiel paused to think. "None that I can remember. But things might've changed since I've last woken. What year is it? Ah, wait. You humans don't measure time in the same way as we do." Cas tapped his foot against the floor, the human equivalent of a thoughtful tail-flick. The vibration of the movement carried up his leg and he did it again, just to make sure he'd felt it right the first time.

“Perhaps if we go outside I'll be able to guess. Do you measure time in suns? Moons?”

He was met with a blank look. “Uh, suns I guess? Hours? I don't--! That’s not the point here!”

Cas didn't see how it wasn't the point or how the question wasn't significant but he let the matter slide for now. Either way, he needed to get outside. Based on the position of the stars, he'd be able to make for an educated enough guess.

"Of all the crap that's laying around in here, you don't have a clock?"

"I'd hardly call it fecal matter," Cas replies back, audibly offended. His hoard had come together, having taken time to pick and choose what went into it. He turned, walking out towards the mouth of his sleeping cavern.

Dean tapped something along his arm and the metal plating receded, retracting back to fold along a panel against his spine. Cas blinked. momentarily forgetting his quest for the stars and padding close to Dean again, spinning around him to prod at the garment. "How does it work?"

“How do  _you_ go from dragon to human?”

“Magic.”

“And the clothes come from thin air?” Dean gestured at him.

“They come from magic,” he answered again.

Castiel hadn't shifted since he'd joined Gabriel that one time to the human tavern that squatted at the outskirts of the human settlement. The entire experience had been awkward and mostly uncomfortable, though Gabriel, of course, had been delighted by the chaos that they'd found within the establishment. That was where he’d learned of humanity’s particular distress when it came to their nudity.

So, he adjusted accordingly. The garment that he’d produced with his transformation was the same deep navy as his scales, textured over in a way that was reminiscent of dragon skin. The sweep of fabric was clasped shut on one shoulder, covering him from torso to below the knee, with both shoulders bare.

Though, he was beginning to suspect that the style was now out of date. Dean was dressed in what seemed to be leather and cotton, fabric and steel weaving together to allow for the not-scales to cover him, when needed.

"Is your brother a dragon?" Castiel asked, shifting the topic abruptly.

For his part, Dean seemed to be deciding whether or not to continue his earlier attack, or simply accept the new status quo. "No," he answered. "Why would he be--?"

"Why would you assume he’d be here, among our kind, if he weren't a dragon?"

Dean's brow wrinkled. "When he went missing the only clue that I found left behind were the books. He was looking up stuff on you guys, and now he's gone."

"It didn't occur to you that he might've sought us out of his own volition?" Castiel walked back towards the mouth of the cave again. Behind him, he heard Dean hurry to follow.

"Well, yeah. I tracked his transport to this mountain range but the signal went dead. This was the closest cave from his last known location."

"Naturally you assumed that one of us had taken him?" Castiel took Dean's subsequent silence for a 'yes'. "You do realize that we have no use for humans. Your kind pose more of a nuisance than anything else."

The air was growing colder the further he got from his pleasant sleep cavern. Colder, but sweeter. Fresher. The sky was sunset-orange when Castiel finally laid eyes on it. He needed to see the stars to know for certain but, going off the Royal Aconite flowers growing in a cluster by his cavern mouth...

"Two hundred years," he surmised, aloud.

"Two hundred years what?"

"I've been asleep."

A beat of silence and then, "You just slept...for two  _hundred_ years?"

Cas nodded and turned back to Dean.

"And you got that from stars and some flowers?"

"The Royal Aconite takes about a century to grow to maturity and bloom, and the flowers darken each century. I planted these shortly before my last sleep. Going off the hue of the petals, I've been asleep for at least two hundred years, perhaps a bit more."

"You know, you people should really consider just using a calendar. And a clock." Dean held up his arm. He pressed something along the leather of his jacket and the material shifted transparency, displaying a series of marks, outlined in a glowing red.

"Clock," he explained. Another press and the marks changed. "Date." Another press and both were replaced with a grid. "Calendar, to track the days." A slight noise of protest escaped him as Castiel clamped a hand on his arm, peering at the screen that was strapped to his twist.

"That...would indeed be of use," Cas admitted. He looked from the ‘clock’ to Dean’s face. “How does it work?”

“It’s ‘technology’. Electricity - uh, concentrated lightning, I guess - running around circuits. And programming. Depending on the programming, the circuits do different things. So we have clocks, calendars, moving transports and ‘scales’,” he explained. He leaned away, trying to ease his arm out from Castiel’s death grip.

Castiel wasn’t keen on releasing him. “Show me.”

“Yeah I’m not taking apart my tech just to show you what’s what.” Dean went silent and then smiled. “Actually, scratch that. How about you and me make a deal?”

“A deal?”

“You help me find my brother, and I’ll show you how it works. Cause, see this? I made it.”

“You’re a magicker?” Castiel asked.

“Sure. Whatever that is. So? Deal?”

Castiel stopped to think about it, mulling over the options in his head. On the one paw, this was definitely going to throw off his usual routine. On the other..

Castiel’s eyes landed on the screen on Dean’s arm.

Knowledge.  _New_ knowledge.

“Deal,” he said, briskly. "If your brother came into our territory without a guide then...he could've fallen prey to any number of mishaps." There was an edge of sympathy in Castiel's voice. Dean had winced visibly at the word 'prey'. "Now, I, personally, don't know what happened to him,” Castiel continued, “...but I may know someone who does. My brother is significantly more up to date with human matters. He takes trips to visit your towns. It's an odd fascination, really, but it may come of some use us now." Castiel pointed across the mountain range. "His caves are near mine. The fourth peak in the distance there."

Dean squinted. "You call that 'near'?"

"It'll take less than an hour by flight."

Dean looked hilariously put out by the possibility. "I can't fly."

Castiel glanced at the equipment strapped to his shoulders. Evidently there wasn’t a ‘wing’ attachment. "No? I could take you."

"Okay, when I said I ‘can’t’ fly, I should’ve said  _won’t_."

"It'd be far more efficient a trip if we were airborne,” Castiel countered. He smoothly shifted back to his natural shape, stretching his wings out. Calisthenics done, he reached down with massive paws to carefully wrap around Dean’s middle, lifting him off the ground. He was careful not to jostle him too much. These bags of flesh and bone were so, _so_ delicate.

“Hey! Hey hey nonononono  _put me down_!”

“You'll be safe, I promise.” Cas plopped him onto his back, waiting a beat for Dean to get settled. “Hold on!” was the only signal he gave before he snapped his wings outward and kicked off from the outcropping.

Dean’s screams were lost to the whistling of the wind against his ears.

 

***

 

After an hour the sun dipped low over the horizon, lengthening the shadows on the ground far below them.

“We should land,” Castiel said.

“What? Can't see in the dark?” Dean’s voice was tight and strained, but at least he'd long since stopped screaming.

“No.” Castiel huffed and a puff of smoke billowed from his nostrils. “I'm  _hungry_. I haven't eaten since I awoke.”

“Oh.”

Castiel tipped his wings to a descent and began to circle, lower and lower, looking for an appropriate clearing that could hold him. He startled a flock of birds as he landed, his hind legs thumping heavily against the ground before he settled completely.

He lowered himself to the ground, craning his neck around to check if Dean had indeed held on as he'd asked.

He had. Barely, that is. He was sprawled between Castiel’s shoulders, clinging to the juncture of his wings for dear life.

“You can come down now,” Cas advised, patiently.

Dean rolled off and landed on the ground with a thump. Castiel shuffled around to butt his nose against the pile of limbs. “Are you well?”

Dean stirred and manoeuvred himself mostly upright. “Super,” he grumbled.

Castiel took his word for it and stepped away, flattening the grass in his wake as he walked over to the side of the small lake they’d landed beside. He waded in until the water lapped at his knees, then dipped his face below the surface, snapping up the startled fish. It wasn’t going to make for a particularly filling meal, but it was better than going hungry and far better than crashing through the woods at night, looking for game. Only wyvern hunted at night, and Castiel wasn’t so uncouth as that.

Once he’d eaten and drunk, he snagged an extra fish for Dean, flinging it to the surface with a flick of his head. It landed on the surface and there it thrashed, mouth opening and closing pathetically.

“Oh, for me? I-I’m good.” Dean held up whatever sparkly packet he was eating food from. Castiel sniffed at the air, his features setting into the dragon equivalent of a frown. If he couldn’t identify the smell, it couldn’t possibly be good. Besides, he’d gotten the fish for Dean. A perfectly good, fresh fish. He huffed in annoyance at the slight, splashing water as his tail lashed down once.

“For you,” he insisted.

“I said I’m--”

“For. You.”

Dean’s jaw stilled and sent his gaze skyward. “Thanks.” He didn’t  _sound_ thankful in the least but he still drew out a knife, spearing the fish’s neck to spare it from further misery. Cas made a pleased noise and wading back out to the shore.

“...perfectly good meal already. Now I have to go through the trouble...” Dean was saying as Cas made it back. He looked up and froze, his eyes fixed to a spot just above Castiel’s head.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Those...aren’t fireflies.”

Cas looked up and a spark of blue startled away from him, a squeaking shrilly. It rejoined a small army of others which had risen from the surrounding grass and trees, having come down for a nightly drink themselves.

“They’re faeries,” Castiel explained, climbing the rest of the way onto shore and sitting down by Dean. He curled his tail over his feet and looked up at the lightshow. As far as he was concerned, faeries were little more than particularly pretty mosquitos, but he supposed they had their charms. “You’ve never seen one?”  

“No,” Dean answered, looking awed and wary all at once. “Guess they don’t come far into the city.”

Now that Castiel had stopped moving, a few seemed confident enough to flutter closer, hovering over them. Castiel could faintly hear their whispers. He wasn’t well versed in fae-speak, but he knew enough to identify the words for ‘human’ and ‘dragon’, and that they were generally curious to why they had chosen to come here, of all places.

Castiel huffed as one danced too close to his nose, sending it flying and bumping into one of it’s fellows. Dean carefully set down his shiny-food, and held a hand out for one to land on his palm.

“Careful,” Castiel warned. “They--”

Dean yelped and the fairy darted away. A second later, little pinpricks of blood beaded up through the small incisions left on his palm.

“Bite,” Castiel finished, his voice laced with faint amusement.

Dean groused under his breath and wiped his hand on his pants leg. “Thanks for the warning, pal. Great timing.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dean made an unhappy noise and set about channeling his frustrations into cleaning the fish. “I’m gonna cook this. Anything else around here that bites?”

The end of Castiel’s tail twitched. “Several things,” he answered, honestly.

A faint hum filled the air as Dean pulled the pistol from it’s holster and the barrel slowly lit up as it powered, pulsing with a faint blue glow. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Castiel stayed where he was, watching Dean move to prepare his dinner. Dragon’s didn’t cook their food. At least, not externally. There was no need for cuisine when they could flame and consume simultaneously.

Observing the minute process that went into  _human_ food was entertainment all on its own. Dean cut down a branch to skewer the fish and built - what Castiel later realized - was a fire pit. Helpfully, Castiel shuffled closer, on his belly, and spat out out a stream of fire to light it. Dean startled away as the jet of flame arced past his shoulders, looking affronted. Castiel only flicked his ears at him, somewhere between playful and smug.

He settled down after that, laying his head on his paws as Dean set the fish to cook.

“Are you a hunter by trade?” Castiel asked.

“Not exactly,” Dean answered. “More for sport.”

“A silly sport.”

“Yeah, well, it’s more about getting time to myself...and bonding with my brother.”

“The one you’re seeking?”

Dean’s voice went stiff. “Yes.”

Castiel sensed that he wasn’t going to get more answers if he left things up to Dean and nudged the conversation along. “So what is it that you do? What requires so much reading? Scribe? Scholar?”

“Try ‘prince’.”

Castiel thought of the possibility for a moment and then raised his head, scanning the area. “No.” Royalty didn't travel alone.

“Yeah.”

“Where is your escort?”

“Shook ‘em a few miles back.” Dean sounded proud about it.

“That isn’t wise,” Castiel chided.

“I caught you all on my own, didn’t I?”

“I was asleep.”

“...Fair.”

“Even the leaders of my people travel with envoys,” Castiel told him. “And we come with scales. And teeth.”

“And we have technology. Isn’t that what you’re after?”

“Personally, yes.” Castiel went silent for a moment, lost in thought as Dean prodded his fish. “Your brother is a prince as well?”

“That’s how that works, yeah.”

“Do many of your kind agree with you? That he was taken by a dragon?”

“They.. don’t know. Not yet. My father’s a little...preoccupied. He hasn’t noticed that Sam hasn’t been around for a few days but I’m not as…” Dean cast around for the right word and seemed to give up after a minute. “I’m more observant than he is,” he settled on, instead.

“There’s potentially war on the horizon, then,” Cas surmised, bluntly.

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid, Cas. Er. Castiel,” he corrected.

Castiel blinked once, running the sound of the nickname through his head. “Cas is fine,” he decided, eventually.

“Alright. Well,  _Cas_ , d’ya want a taste?” Dean raised the skewered fish up to him. Castiel lowered his nose for a sniff and then opened his mouth. Dean quickly retracted his arm, pulling the fish away from Castiel’s open jaws. “Not the whole thing, man.”

“Oh.” Castiel shrunk back down to his human shape, kneeling in the grass beside Dean. The textured robes glinted starlight as he reached a hand out for a chunk of fish. He sniffed it again and then took a careful bite. To eat something that had been touched by a fire that hadn’t come directly from him was...different.

But not unpleasant.

“It’s good.”

“Yeah? You should see what I can do with a real kitchen.”

Castiel hummed absently, bringing his knees up to his chest as he sat, facing Dean. He didn’t seem quite as small when seen from his own level. His eyes were incredibly vibrant too, something he hadn't noticed from looming above him in his normal shape.

“Uh, Cas?”

“Hm?”

“Personal space?”

Castiel found himself sitting two inches away from Dean’s nose. “Oh.” He scooted back, allowing Dean his requested-for space. He wasn’t entirely sure why  _Dean_ didn’t choose to move away himself but…  _Humans._

Though, he had to wonder how intricate the rules were about these things. Because, when the night became even colder and Dean shivered under his thin coverings, he didn't protest when Cas shifted back to his natural shape and tucked him under his wing, close to his belly and the livingflame that burned there.

 

***

 

The next morning greeted them with clear skies and a swift tailwind. They made good time and when the mountain peaks came close enough for Castiel to almost reach out and touch, he landed.

“We’re walking?” Dean asked.

“I'm walking. You would slip and die on these rocks,” Castiel informed, digging his claws in and scaling the steep ridge.

“And you can't just fly to the cave because…?”

“Because it's considered improper at best and a sign of aggression at worst.” Stone crumbled under him as he scrambled along the side of the stone facade. He pulled himself up over the outcropping in front of the gaping cavern mouth and twisted his neck around to look at Dean.

“Here's where you can get off,” he told him.

Dean’s dismount was fractionally more graceful than the one from last night. He stumbled, but didn't fall, taking a couple steps to shake his legs out. Cas nudged Dean behind him with a sweep of his tail and walked forward.

“So you gotta go through the trouble of climbing up the side but then you can just march in?”

“He knows I'm here now,” Cas told him, simply.

The heavy thump-thump of approaching footsteps proved him to be true. In a minute, the cave suddenly brightened as sunlight from the mouth reflected off brilliant, white-gold scales.

“Cassie!”

Cas dipped his neck, pressing his belly to the ground as he bobbed his head in a traditional greeting. Gabriel bumped the end of his snout to Castiel’s...then climbed over him entirely, using the end of Castiel’s nose as a step as he sprawled across his back, smothering him as he clambered over to see Dean.

“Oh! You got one too?” he asked, reaching down and around. Castiel coiled his tail around his human and ignored Dean’s indignant yelp at being wrapped from next to toe in protective dragon.

“Gabriel, get  _off_.” Castiel thrashed under him, growling softly. Gabriel might’ve been smaller than him, but he was no less heavier for it.

“Just wait a beat. Lemme see.”

Cas felt a tug and reluctantly he relinquished his hold. Somehow he suspected Dean wouldn’t survive a match of tug-of-war between two dragons.

Dean wasn't as forgiving. “Listen here you son of a bitch you put me down or I'll--” his protests were summarily ignored. Gabriel clambered off Castiel and sat back on his haunches, holding Dean between his forepaws.

“He’s smaller than mine,” he commented, batting Castiel on the nose once with the end of his tail as he tried to sit up. Castiel huffed in response and swiped at the tickle it left behind.

“Give him bac- Wait. Smaller than yours?” Castiel asked, going still at the same time as Dean. And then it all snapped into motion again as Dean picked up his struggling, trying to free his pistol from it’s holster.

“You have Sam!”

“Did you take him?” Cas asked at the same time, and though more calmly than Dean.

“This one’s fighteir than mine too,” Gabriel commented instead, setting Dean down with a wrinkle of his nose. “I don’t like him.”

Dean raised his pistol to fire and Cas curled his tail around him again, dragging him back to relative safety at his side. “You shouldn’t have taken a human,” Cas chided. Dean wriggled ineffectually against him, spewing curses. “There could be war.”

“Taken!” Gabriel set a paw on his chest, looking affronted. “When have I  _taken_ anything?”

“Three hundred years ago, you absconded with my spoon collection.”

Dean stilled and shot a questioning look at Castiel. “Why did you have a  _spoon collection_?”

“That’s not the point here, Dean.”

“No, that’s exactly the point and I just  _borrowed_ it, Cassie. And! I didn’t take Sam. He came  _here_ ,” Gabriel explained.

Dean raised the pistol again. “Where is he?”

Gabriel huffed smoke into his face. “One? That’s not gonna hurt me. Two? You’re rude. Three--”

“Dean?”

“He’s right there,” Gabriel finished.

Castiel obligingly raised his tail to let Dean run over to his brother, wrapping him in an embrace. He tipped his head to the side, watching the interaction.

His human  _was_ smaller.

“The hell were you thinking, running off like that?” Dean groused, once he had - apparently - satisfied himself of his brother’s wellbeing.

Gabriel scuttled off to plant himself around Sam, curling the end of his tail around Sam’s feet, draping out comfortably behind him.

“I was thinking about the wealth of information that’s here. Dean! Look! We can fix  _everything_ ,” Sam was saying, shoving a heavy tome in his arms.

“You came out here to do  _research_? Nice, Sammy.”

“I left you a note!”

“A note? Okay, a note’s not gonna fly if Dad found out you were missing!”

Castiel twisted his head around to try and catch the title on the book. “Weather magic is fairly straightforward,” he commented.

“That’s what I told him,” Gabriel replied.

Sam was in the middle of his own argument. “An alliance, Dean. Imagine it. Working together.”

“Most dragons don’t care about humanity,” Castiel pointed out, laying his head down next to Dean so he could look at them both with just a tilt.

“You being the exception?” Dean asked.

“Ex _cuse_ , I’m here too,” Gabriel huffed.

“My interests are very specific,” Castiel conceded. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to continuing our arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” Sam asked.

Dean shoved the book back at Sam. “I show him how this works,” he raised his arm to point at the panel embedded into the fabric. “And he helps me find you. And we found you. And we’re going back before Dad has a chance to send an army out here.”

“Yeah but, alliance. Good idea, right?”

“Awesome, now let’s go.”

“Nuh-uh, I helped with this, I get a deal of my own,” Gabriel said, reaching a paw out to snatch Sam back to him. To his credit, he was gentle with his handlings, cupping Sam in his palm before drawing him away. “You show me about human things and I’ll help you water your crops or whatever happens to be going on over there.”

“Human things?” Dean echoed, incredulously. “The fuck kinda deal is th--”

“Deal.” Sam immediately agreed.

Gabriel plopped Sam down on his back. “Then let’s go!” The rush of air as he spread his wings and sailed past them blasted Dean off his feet.

“Hey! You bring him back right n--Screw this.” Dean picked himself up and climbed up Cas’ side, angrily settling himself into his (now) usual spot between Cas’ shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not a horse, Dean,” Cas huffed, audibly displeased at the thought of being used as mere  _transport_. He was a dragon, not some beast of burden.

“Follow them and I won’t just show you how tech works, I’ll show you how to build one yourself.”

Cas was off like a shot. And if he took particular pleasure in the looks of shock on the townspeople’s faces as their princes returned to the city on dragonback…

Well, that was just a happy bonus.


End file.
